


With Benefits

by Aramley



Category: Veep
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-26
Updated: 2012-12-26
Packaged: 2017-11-22 11:05:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/609140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aramley/pseuds/Aramley
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's an eventful few weeks. Dan has to replace two of his spare work suits due to mysterious staining and creative tears. He threatens to submit the receipts for workplace expenses, and Amy tells him exactly where he can non-sexually shove it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	With Benefits

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withthepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/withthepilot/gifts).



> I hope you enjoy! I just couldn't resist your prompt :)

"I still think you're a shitstain, Dan," Amy says, the first time.

Dan makes a non-committal sound.

"I just don't want you to get the impression that I, you know, like you or anything - _oh fuck, yeah, like that_."

When he's finished, Dan raises his head from between her legs, looks at her over her shoved-up skirt, and licks his red, wet lips. 

"Yeah," he says. "Can't imagine where I would have got that idea."

The thing about Dan is, he's not as bad as you think. 

He's worse.

"Nobody can know about this," Amy says, after. Her hands shake a little as she buttons up her blouse.

"Fuck, are you kidding me? Of course not," Dan says, just a little too fast for her liking. If either of them have any cause to be embarrassed by this situation, it's her. Dan zips up his pants and says, "Shit, I'm going to need to get these dry-cleaned.

Amy glances down at herself. "Oh my god, did you get your come on my shoes?" She slaps him on the arm, hard. "You're a filthy motherfucker."

"God, I love it when you talk dirty to me," Dan says, and he sounds the way he always sounds - like a sarcastic, insincere piece of shit - but he's also insinuating a hand under her skirt, along the inside of her thigh, and so fuck, fuck everything, this still does not mean that she likes him.

\- 

So there are those two times, and then a couple more, and then there's the week she spends telling herself that she's totally got a handle on this (ignoring that persistent junkie itch under her skin whenever she and Dan are in the same room, like she wants to tear all his clothes off, and not even so that it would make it easier to skin him whole and then set him on fire) until, at the end of the week, Dan locks them into the accessible bathroom during a fundraising speech and fucks her against the sink.

"Oh my god," she pants into the collar of his tux. "Goddammit, fuck, why couldn't it just be crystal meth?"

Dan groans, and mutters, "Fucking tell me about it."

-

Resolving this not-even-fucking-friends with benefits thing they've fallen into would definitely be easier if Dan weren't so unbelievably, irritatingly good in bed - or, for that matter, out of bed: on the floor, in the shower, in the kitchen, locked in a variety of storage closets and out-of-the-way bathrooms in the EEOB.

It's an eventful few weeks. Dan has to replace two of his spare work suits due to mysterious staining and creative tears. He threatens to submit the receipts for workplace expenses, and Amy tells him exactly where he can non-sexually shove it.

"You know what," Dan says, irritably, "sleeping with women for promotion was a lot fucking easier than whatever the fuck we're doing here."

Amy's not sure whether to be flattered that she's not getting fucked for ambition's sake, or offended that he thinks she's not important enough to be worth that effort.

"You can feel free to go back to jerking off in front of your mirror any time you like," she snaps, but on reflection she feels like the threat might have worked better if she hadn't been straddling his lap while she said it.

-

"So let's talk about you and Dan," Selina says, alone in the VP's office one day, and for an extended moment Amy's whole field of vision goes black.

When she tunes back in again, she can hear herself saying, "- it was unprofessional, it was wrong, it was improper and, and wrong, and it - it won't happen again."

"Huh," says Selina, with a little crinkly frown. "Because I was just going to tell you what a good job you guys did on the Jones rebuttal, but now I'm thinking I want to talk about this other thing."

Amy thinks it would be super fucking convenient right now if she could just faint on cue, or die, or something. She says, "Oh."

Selina walks around her desk, smiling a sharp-sweet, predator's smile. "Why don't you sit down, Aims?"

"Yes, ma'am," Amy says, and sits.

" _So_." Selina settles herself on the couch opposite. If she weren't Amy's boss and technically-if-not-actually the second most powerful person in the world, Amy would ask her if she's enjoying this. It would be redundant, anyway, as she clearly fucking is. "Is this, like, a relationship?"

"Dan's only significant relationships are with his Blackberry and the company that makes hair gel," Amy says, quickly. 

Last Sunday morning, Dan made her coffee. He grudgingly let her borrow one of his old work-out shirts from his stupid prestigious college and they sat around his apartment and worked on ways to politely tell a certain Republican senator to go eat his own dick, choke on that dick, and die. Sometimes he sexts her at totally inappropriate moments during the work day. When he comes by at night he brings Thai food from the place they both like and, occasionally, he even remembers what her favourites are. Dan is the worst person she's ever met in her entire life and yet is still somehow managing to be less of a turd than her last two boyfriends.

There's something incredibly fucked up here.

Selina looks contemplative. "I guess he's hung, though, right? I mean, he looks like the kind of guy who would be."

So, so fucked up.

-

She waits until she and Dan have had sex that night and are sitting at her dining table eating cold pad thai out of boxes before she says, "So, Selina knows."

Dan swallows. "Yeah," he says, without looking up.

She looks at him. His hair is mussed and he has a hickey on the side of his neck that she vividly remembers putting there. Sometimes she hates him so much she wants to literally strangle him until his eyeballs pop.

"That's what you have to say?" she says. "' _Yeah_ '?"

"Well, it's not like we're the fucking CIA about this whole thing," he says. "You can't have sex in as many places in a work environment as we have the past few months and expect to get away with it. I'm pretty sure Jonah knows."

"Fucking - _Jonah knows_?"

"Yeah," Dan says. He finally looks up from his noodles. "He sort of called you a whore and then I punched him in the face, and he's not too fucking oxygen-deprived not to do some basic social one-plus-one-equals."

Amy realises that she's staring. "You did not punch Jonah in the face. You can't even reach Jonah's face without a fucking step-ladder."

"Well, you know, not actually. But I thought about it. Thought about what it would look like if he fell over. Like one of those fucking California redwoods going down - _bam_." Dan's looking down at his pad thai again. If he had a measurable human soul, Amy might call this expression _embarrassed_.

Under the table, she puts her bare feet on top of his. He looks up at her.

"It's okay," Amy says. She leans forward and steals a forkful of his noodles. "I'll tell people you're my pity-fuck."


End file.
